A Little More Than Flowers This Time

Father's Day is coming. That day is the holiday I'm most likely to forget. When I was young my father gave me a bubble mower one Mother's Day, and mum, what did you get? I haven't been home for the last two Mother's Days, but don't hate me. Maybe I'll come home next year. I haven't decided yet. May is mother's month -- recognised twice in two weeks. First mother's day then her birthday, what fun. This month is the worst for the wallet next to Christmas -- the worst month to be bad. At least I don't have to worry about Father's Day and pleasing a dad.1

I don't mind spending time with mum so much, but sometimes she drives me mad. If she did have a man around it would be nice and she wouldn't be so sad. Stubborn as mum is she'd take a date for Mother's Day as a gag and never mind her birthday. I'd rather not make her mad.2

Where does that leave us then? At a phone call I suppose. Kilometres apart and a distance that grows. Though I don't live with you any more, some how you think I do. While this is your month I fear you may say every year and every May, Jim, why do you seem so much further away?3

Would I tell you I am, and that's the way of sons, or should I try to resolve that saddness in you? Do I tell you what is true? Mother you're lonely moreso because you're alone, and while I'm talking to you now on the phone, you need more than just me. Mum it's okay to look for somebody.4

You'd never hear me though, stubborn as you are. You've had your husband, you're broken-heart, divorce, you've had your kid and you figure your life is done for. Maybe you're right, because you won't have it any other way. I hate how every May you always feel guilty for celebrating each of your days. You always seem to say, "I am too old to have a life of my own. When are you coming back home?"5

Mother I may already be gone. Don't count on me. I don't know if I'll ever be back home. Seriously, at this time in my life I want my home to be my own. I know yours is well and fine, but even you don't want me to stay. You don't know what you want. I know I have to stay away.6

Mother, I love you and I'll try to live up to your pride of me. This doesn't mean you should continue to overidolize me. I wish you'd stop telling the whole world what you think I'll be, though you mean well, I'm afraid others will find disappointment in me. You'll always be my hero for what you've done. But mum, you shouldn't make me a hero for what I'll be. I know you can't help but be loud and proud. Please though, be proud of the truth about me.7

Perhaps children make a mother, but without a mother a child cannot grow into a man. Thank you mother for holding me when I had ear aches and rocking me to sleep. A thousand kisses mum for all the Vicks vapo rubs, for teaching me division and for rubbing my post soccer growing feet.8

I do not forget what you've done, but I cannot keep living with you. Understand, please understand, you can rebuild your home too. You can find more in your life to do. I believe you can, but that said what I really wanted to say after all was mum let's celebrate your Mother's Day.
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